… by J. R. Practix

Tag Archives: well-endowed

I bring this up to you without apology, biological explanation or some silly sidebar like, “Had no complaints…”

What is interesting about my statement, and makes this commentary worthy of publication, is that the little fella has done some amazing things.

He ended up fathering four children, and from them–not many complaints.

He has survived being in a bedroom with a woman without ridicule.

He has also seen that particular human female leave with a pleasured smile. (Basically, it had little to do with him, and was courtesy of other digits and doo-dads, but he will still take the credit.)

I suppose at one time in my life I would have been embarrassed by the size of my “unit” (that’s what people who feel they are well-endowed call it).

Or should I refer to it as my “package?” But if it is a package, I could send mine first-class reasonably. But call me crazy, I am too overjoyed with my life to complain about my wiener.

I would not want to be around people from the “pecker patrol,” who would stare at my small friend and find him to be disgracefully inadequate.

He has been dutiful. Every time my kidneys want to urinate, he shows up–often bright and early.

He has the good sense to stay out of neighborhoods where he does not belong.

And he’s remained clean and free of disease.

He’s a rather admirable chap.

And even though some of my family would be embarrassed at me talking about him in such a fashion, I think it’s time for us to get over the idea that men and women are going to hump their way to satisfaction because of the enormous size of the male dangling participle.

Making love is like everything else in life. It demands much more conversation than it does struggle.

Matter of fact, I consider cynicism to be one of the more dangerous vices in the human nuclear arsenal of available missiles.

But at the same time, I grow weary of ideas that appear to be optimistic but really are pandering to an ongoing philosophy: “normal is the best.”

Nowhere is this more obvious than in the work of Andersen with “The Ugly Duckling.”

I don’t think we understand the message of this particular tale. What is communicated to me is that a little bird who appears to be an ugly duckling has to hang on through its grotesque phase, because in the end, the bird will end up in the “Kingdom of Normal”–as beautiful, evolving into a swan.

Is this really what we want to communicate? What if you are just an ugly duck? What if you aren’t an emerging swan?

What if you just plopped out of your mother with an incurable dose of homely? Is there room for an ugly duckling who doesn’t become a swan–to still gain acceptance, or even prosperity?

I know my man Hans thought he was being generous of spirit by portraying that those who were less fortunate or not well-endowed should persevere to someday gain place in our society.

But the place he promised them was beauty. We don’t all end up beautiful! There is a whole majority of the human race that has to learn to become functionally ugly.

They will never be airbrushed.

They will never be gorgeous.

They will not achieve stunning.

And they certainly don’t become swans.

So understanding that Mr. Hans was trying to bring honor to the Andersen family by putting forth a positive message, it ends up not being very Christian.

I can’t hear the word “aglow” without thinking about the Women’s Aglow, an organization that sprouted up in the 1970’s, for ladies to come together to celebrate their lives and faith.

I was most fortunate to take my fledgling musical group to perform at many of their functions.

There is nothing quite as righteous as an excited woman–and I mean that in all aspects. In like manner, there is nothing quite as devastating to view as a despondent one.

So to walk into a room with two hundred and fifty females of all ages who are emotionally vulnerable, spiritually charged, mentally alert and physically well-endowed was a little piece of heaven for this young man’s entire being.

I will tell you–I like women. But it’s not merely because I happen to be attracted to them from a physical point of view. No, I like them because they are quite capable of achieving “aglow.”

Even though some of my male counterparts would insist that the “she” part of the human race is “naggy” or bitchy, I have found that they have gained the freedom to express their hearts more readily instead of burying it underneath their gall bladder, inviting an early coronary.

What does it mean to be aglow?

I am willing to share my emotions, whether they are right or wrong.

I am eager to believe that I was created instead of hatched or cast down from the tree by a surprised, disgruntled monkey family.

I like to think, I want to think, I will think.

I am proud of who I am physically–or willing to do what’s necessary to make it better.

Without women being aglow in our society, we would just have men being “agrowl.”

Now if we can just teach some fellows to light up something other than their cigars …